


Adorable Trouble Maker

by Silent_Chick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Dean Winchester, Angst, Crying Dean, De-Aged Dean Winchester, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hunt Gone Wrong, Mother Hen Reader, No Romance, Original Female Character - Freeform, POV Original Female Character, Reader-Insert, Rude Sam, Tags Are Hard, Witch - Freeform, spell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9804935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_Chick/pseuds/Silent_Chick
Summary: Dean and his mouth gets him in trouble again. It's a good thing you're there to take care of him.





	

There was a sleeping three-year-old in your lap. Well, you assume he's three. Having no car seat, you and Sam had no choice but to use you as one instead.

This is strange, even for a Winchester.

There was a witch, an old one, that was getting her powers from aging others faster. No one would know if you were just around the victim head on, but an autopsy disclosed the heart of a ninety-year-old in a twenty-year old’s body.

All victims lead healthy lives from what you gathered from their families.

You and the knuckle headed brothers went after her. Dean, being the amazing jokester he was decided that it was wise to insult the witch. She was not a happy camper and chose to show all of you just that.

All of you were thrown against the wall, Sam hit his head, so he was out for the count. Once Dean came back to his senses he made sure you were alright. Before you could tell him, the witch was behind him pulling him back by the collar of his jacket.

While Dean shouted obscenities at her, you crawled over to one of the three guns on the floor.

Firing off a shot in their direction. It distracted her enough for Dean to tackle her without a fight. On the ground, she started chanting, so Dean put his hand over her mouth.

Sam got up rubbing at his head and dumped all the things the witch had together in a bowl when you three entered.

You and Dean were speaking with the witch, asking her questions and such. She didn't actually answer any of them and tried to start up her chanting again, but Dean put a stop to that.

Next thing you knew Dean was snapping his hand back to himself.

The witch took it as her chance to pounce. You and Sam got her off but not before she somehow cut Dean deep enough to draw blood and finish a spell a second before she took a bullet between the eyes.

Dean said he was okay. Sam suggested you and his brother search the place just in case she had anything you guys could use and he would take care of the body.

Doing just that, you were searching her living room when you heard a crash come from somewhere else in the house. Running to the area, Dean was on the floor with a basket spilled beside him.

He told you he was feeling lightheaded and weak. In return you tried to get him off the ground but being the big guy he was, you needed help. You told him you were gonna go get Sam and ran off in search for the younger Winchester.

You found him and Sam almost left you behind in his hurry to get to his brother. The two of you made it where you left him.

But the Dean you knew wasn't there.

A little boy was lying in the spot with his eyes closed and oversized clothes on him.

You kneeled beside him, rubbing his blonde hair back.

Sam looked down at his once older brother in shock, only coming out of it when you began to gather the little boy in your arms, wrapping him up in the big black shirt he was in.

Sam grabs the remainder of the clothes. A silent agreement to leave the house.

That was an hour and a half ago. Currently you three were headed to a goodwill or some other store that had cheap clothes to get some for Dean. Probably would end up in Walmart or something.

"How is he doing?" Sam asks looking at you in the rear-view mirror.

"Um, he's okay. Still asleep, but okay." You tell him, scratching the back of Dean's head.

"You think it's something that would wear off or..." He leaves it open ended.

Already shaking your head, you adjust Dean in your arms. "No, that witch did something before we killed her. Has to be spell or something that has to do with his blood."

"Right..." Sam sighs.

Pulling into a parking lot, you and Sam were just discussing him going in by himself to get Dean clothes when the little boy himself began to wake.

He stretches his little body before his big green eyes open and he begins to rub at them.

You and Sam freeze, not knowing how to address him just yet.

Dean places his head back on your chest, staring outside of the car window.

"Hi Dean."

The little boy looks up at you. "Hi."

There's a small look of uncertainty on his face before it's replaced with a smile.

"You know who I am?" You ask softly.

Dean nods. "(Y/N)."

You breath out a sigh of relief before pointing to his brother.

"And who is he?"

Dean turns to look at the man he didn't even know was there. He looks back at you.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah, yeah that's Sammy. Do you know what you were doing before your little nap?"

Dean starts to play with the shirt he's drowned in.

"Sweetie," You say tilting his head up so he'll look at you. "Do you know what you were doing before your nap?"

"Umm. No." He looks so lost.

Fuck.

"You don't remember a witch or anything like that?"

"I don't like witches. I like- I like vampires." He scrunches up his face like a pair of fangs are supposed to come out and hisses.

You can't help, but to smile at how adorable he is.

"Well, okay, Mr. Vampire. Sammy's gonna go in the store and get you some clothes."

"Can I go?"

"No, you don't have anything on but this shirt, Sweetie. And someone might find that strange."

"Okay." He seems put off by this.

"Aw, don't pout because you and I are gonna have fun while we wait for him to come back."

"We are?" His big green orbs look so hopeful.

"You bet." You nod to Sam to get out of the car.

While he's passing by the rear window Dean waves to him shouting goodbyes. He snuggles back into you, seeming content to do nothing. So, as you two wait you make up a story of a handsome prince that saves the world. Dean asks questions here and there while you're telling the story, fully into it, gasping at things he wouldn't expect to happen.

"Sammy's comin'." He says still resting his head against your heart.

Looking out the window, Sam is pushing a basket with bags and one big box.

“Check this out. Got a car seat that was on sale. Got him a few outfits and two different pairs of shoes that he can hopefully fit. Uh, a little jacket, socks, and underwear.” Holding the last item up, Dean starts to grab at it.

“Batman!”

Dean tries to open up the package still sitting in your lap. Grabbing it from him you rip it open and hand it back. “Do you think he’ll stay like this for that long, though?”

Sam pushes some of his mane back, sighing. “There’s no telling how long it will take to find a spell to fix this. It’s better to be safe than sorry. That’s why I got all the essentials.”

You nod as little pairs of undies make their way into the air.

“Uh oh.” Dean states, putting down the outer plastic wrapping to find the batman symbol.

“I’ll help him get dressed while you figure out the car seat.”

Sam nods, turning his attention from his brother.

Dean is more than happy to slide on the undies, but the rest of the clothing, not so much. He didn’t want to sit still when you were putting his shirt on him and he tried to pull it back off. And as you put on a pair of black shoes, he thinks it’s a wise idea to start pulling out his other clothes out of their bags.

Sam almost snaps at him, but contains himself. He gets the car seat finished at the same time you pick up the clothes with the help of the little trouble maker.

You put the bags in the trunk as Sam places Dean in the car seat with loud protests.

“Dean, don’t hit me.” Sam dodges a tiny fist aimed for his jaw.

“I don’t wanna! Let me out, Sammy!”

“Stop! You’re gonna stay in this seat, I don’t care what you want. Do you understand me?”

Instead of answering, Dean pouts and turns his head with his arms folded. Sam closes the back door and makes his way to the driver’s seat.

Pulling out of the parking lot, you glance back at Dean to see he still has his lip poked out and tears are on his cheeks.

“Oh Sweetie, don’t cry. You won’t be in that thing for long. Look at me.”

Dean sniffs, turning his sad green eyes to face you.

“Do you want me to come back there? Would that make you feel better?”

Dean nods, wiping his face with one of his fist.

Turning to do just that, Sam clears his throat. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you mean, what do I think I’m doing? I’m going back there. Do you want him to be sad and not interact with us or do you want him to be happy, Sam? He obviously doesn’t know what’s going on, so the least I can do is make him happy while he’s like this.” You make your way over the seat sliding in beside Dean.

Grabbing his small hand in yours, you use the free one to wipe his face clean. “Don’t cry, Big Boy. It’s alright. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.” He replies quietly, holding onto your hand with both of his.

“Can I get a smile?”

Dean shakes his head wildly.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what? You’re too adorable not to smile.”

He shrugs.

“Sam, let’s go get something to eat.”

Turning back to the little boy, you see him playing with your hand. While he’s distracted, you begin to wiggle a finger into his neck, causing him to let out a few giggles. By the time the three of you make it to a diner, Dean is all smiles and full of giggles.

After you unbuckle Dean out of his car seat, Sam opens the door and raises him out of it, setting the squirming kid on the ground. Closing your car door, you’re surprised to see Dean looking up at you with a hand out. You smile and take it in yours.

He looks so adorable in his dark jeans, TMNT shirt, and black hoodie jacket. Dean’s hair is only a little longer than it was when he was an adult, but it’s still sort of the same style and not to mention that it’s blonde.

Dean hops up the steps, hand still in yours.

“Where do you wanna sit?” You ask him once you guys are inside.

“Umm, over there.” He points to one of booths by the window.

After Dean crawls up into the seat, you slide in behind him and Sam sits by himself on the other side.

While looking at the menus, a waitress makes her way over to the table.

“Hi, my name’s Amanda and I’ll be your waitress for today. Can I get you guys started with some drinks?”

“Water, please.” Sam supplies.

“Alright and you ma’am?”

“Um, I’ll take a coke.”

“Okay and what can I get this little cutie?” Amanda smiles at Dean, while he stares back at her from where he glued himself to you.

“’M not a cutie. ‘M adorable.”

Even Sam the Grinch can’t keep a smile off his face at the pure seriousness on Dean’s little face.

“He’ll take a lemonade.” You say with a chuckle.

“I’ll bring him some crayons and stuff.” Amanda goes back behind the counter.

She does come back with drinks and things for Dean. Taking the second half of the order, she leaves them be.

You and Sam discuss where to go from here. Whether to get a motel for the night or just head back to the bunker since it wasn’t that far away. Just a little bit of a drive that would probably upset the three-year-old. You figured if you were able to occupy Dean, then it would be enough to distract him from the drive and you could save money that way.

Dean took no part in this conversation as he was beautifully drawing whatever he was drawing with his tongue out. He tried to pick his nose twice, but you were able to stop him. Then he stuck one of the ends of the crayons up there to scratch it instead. You made a mental note to remove that one from the set.

Amanda returned with everyone’s food, laughing at the way Dean’s eyes light up over his chicken nuggets.

You didn’t think the bbq sauce would be a messy endeavor, but it was. Dean would cover a nugget on both sides, pick it up, and stuff it in his mouth. That resulted in bbq crayons since he was still drawing, bbq chipmunk cheeks, and a bbq covered cup. There was even some on the table.

“Someone would think he hasn’t eaten anything in his life.” Sam says sliding his finished salad to the side.

“Is he really that different from how he usually is?” You state amused, wiping Dean’s face with some wet wipes Amanda provided.

“You have a valid point. I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”

“Okay… Oh! Take him with you and make sure his hands are all clean. He probably should try to use the restroom too.” Lifting Dean from his spot, you avoid his sticky hands.

“’M not finish.” Dean says as your setting him down.

“Well, when you come back, you can finish before we leave, Okay?”

“Okay.” He turns and tries to take off without Sam, but Sam is quicker with the placement of his hand on his head.

While they’re gone, you tidy up the table putting the empty plates together, wiping up Dean’s mess, and Amanda comes to gather the empty plates and refill glasses. You apologize for the sticky crayons, but she takes it in stride and tells you he’s not the first kid to do it, so usually they let the kids have them.

Dean returns without Sam, seeming to be very interested in his hands. When he makes it to you he pauses leaning against your thigh, looking back towards the bathrooms. Once Sam comes into view, green eyes find your (y/e/c) ones.

“Can I finish now?”

“Yeah, Buddy.”

You and Sam wait in silence as Dean finishes up his picture. The crayon is smacked down on the table and Dean picks up the paper to show you what he was drawing.

The paper is covered with the unique art only children are capable of doing.

“Me, Sammy, and you.” He says, pointing at each figure drawn.

Looking at the glorious stick figures, you notice that Dean’s is handing something to yours.

“What’s that?”

“A flower. ‘M-‘m givin’ you a flower.”

He looks so proud of what he just made and there’s a little bit of that making its way into your heart.

“Aw, that’s sweet, Dean. *gasp* Aww, this is for me? Thank you. I’m gonna fold it up and keep it safe in my pocket.”

After you give him a hug and he returns it, the two of you rally up the crayons. Making sure Sam leaves Amanda a gracious tip, all of you pile back into the car.

Dean still doesn’t like being in the car seat, but he’s dealing with it. A little bit into the drive back, out of the corner of your eye, you see Dean’s head dropping just to rise back up a second later.

“Turn the radio down a little bit.” You softly tell Sam, placing a hand on his shoulder. A few bobs later, his head finally stays down.

You catch the kicked puppy look Sam is unintentionally giving his brother.

“We’ll fix this, Sam. We have to.”

 

Sam parks Baby in her designated spot when you guys arrive to the bunker. He goes for the bags while you go for Dean.

As you’re removing him from the straps of the seat, his eyes open enough to barely see out of them and he starts whining.

“I know you’re sleepy and I promise to let you get some more rest after a bath.” You hold a hand out for one the bags containing some pj’s for Dean.

You make your way towards a bathroom trying not to jostle him too much since he’s gently snoozing on your shoulder. The only reason you want him to have a bath now is because of how messy he was with the bbq sauce earlier and there’s a gut feeling that he still might have some on his skin.

Running the water first, you help him out of the clothes before placing him inside the warm water. Sam didn’t get any soap for him and you don’t want him smelling like a grown man… even though he kind of is one, but that’s not the point. So, you use some of yours, there’s not a strong scent to it like his would have. And just like you thought, he was still sticky and somehow had a little in his hair.

Washed up and dried off from head to toe, you put his night clothes on as he rubs at his eyes, starting to whine again.

“A promise is a promise.” He might not stay awake through a teeth brush.

Dean snuggles into you as you carry him down the hall to his room.

Pulling his covers back with one hand, you place him carefully in the middle of the bed. Hopefully he stays there. You leave the door open a little so there’s some type of light coming through and if he needs to, he can open the door by himself.

After a shower for yourself, you head to the kitchen to get something to drink. On second thought, you grab two water bottles and head to the one place you know Sam will be right now.

The library.

He has a few different books open in front of himself, pencil tapping against the table.

Sliding the bottle towards him, your plan was to just turn back around and head to your room, but he stops you.

“Thanks…. Hey?”

“Hm?”

Sam puts the pencil down, looking up at you with a bit of a smile.

“You would make a great mom.”

That makes you smile and you come back to the table to sit opposite of him.

“Thanks. When I was younger I always wanted a kid of my own.”

“What happened to that dream?”

You fold your arms on the table. “Almost every little girl wants someone they will marry who will love them as much as any person could. A kid they can dress up and make all adorable… I wanted that up until one day my parents finally decide to tell me what they did for a living, meaning the thing they did for free. Which was hunting. That didn’t faze that dream until they couldn’t hide anything from me anymore because eventually they needed my help. I admire that they raised me while hunting the things that go bump in the night and having jobs that paid the bills, all at the same time. I then realized I couldn’t do it. I kept pepping myself up saying, “I’ll meet someone someday that will take me away from this life and I could put all this on the back burner”. Then my dad told me something. He told me that there was no coming out of this life. That’s what him and my mom tried to do, but failed. My dad thought the same exact thing I had. Met my mom, moved, and only helped his parents when they really needed him. One night a vamp made its way into the house they had at the time and my mom had to witness my dad cutting off its head. She was so horrified that she passed out. Dropped like bag of sand, my dad told me…. Then he had to tell her all about hunting and just like that she was dragged in. Some people say, ‘history repeats itself’ and that’s not something I wanted to try… A werewolf killed them on a hunt…. I was too late to save them. I couldn’t put my child through seeing me die and all they can do is sit there helpless with blood on their hands from trying to save me….”

You get up from the seat, pushing it back in, grabbing your water bottle.

“Try not to stay up too late, okay? You need sleep like everyone else, Sammy.”

“Can’t promise you that.” He replies with a small smile.

Returning it, you walk out of the library, you go to check on Dean before heading to your own room.

He seems to be tangled up in the covers.

 

The pitter-patter of feet is what wakes you.

Opening one eye, you just barely catch messy blonde hair before it goes out of view. There’s a tug of the blanket on the other side where Dean just ran, he only tugs about five times before he’s running to the other side again.

Opening both eyes fully, you witness Dean trying to climb up on the bed using the cover. In one swift move, you drag him up into your arms as he lets out a surprised squeak.

“Good morning, Dean.”

“Good mornin’.” He says giggling.

“You sleep okay?” You ask combing his hair back with your fingers.

“Mm hm.”

“You see Sammy this morning?”

“No.”

You begin to wonder if he even went to sleep.

“Let’s go see if we can find Sammy.”

”I hafta peepee.”

One pit stop later, finds you giving Dean a piggy back ride in your search for Sam. It’s not long before you find him where you last saw him.

Putting Dean down, you bookmark the pages on all the books Sam’s using before closing them.

“Sammy?” Dean’s attempting to wake him up, patting his sleeping brother’s side.

Sam shoots up off the table, scaring Dean in the process. Avoiding getting hit in the face, Dean runs to your side, resting his head on your thigh, still looking at his brother.

“Wha-“

“It’s just us, Sam. Go take a shower and we’ll be making breakfast.”

“Where’s Dean?”

“Right here.” You place a hand on top of his head.

The look that crosses Sam’s face says it all. He wishes his brother turning into a three-year-old was a dream.

Pushing himself back from the table, he passes the two of you without saying anything to the little boy watching him walk away.

You and Dean make your way to the kitchen, Dean trailing slightly behind you.

As you’re taking out needed ingredients, Dean just stands there looking like someone’s taken a toy away from him.

Crouching down to his height, you take one of his hands.

“What’s wrong, Sweetie?”

“Sammy didn’t talk to me.” His lip is poked out and his head is down

“Well, Sammy will talk to you at breakfast. Let him take his shower and wake up fully, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Want a hug?”

He nods his head. Opening your arms, Dean lays his head on your shoulder, wrapping his little arms around your neck. Your heart broke a little bit at his admission. Usually Sam was the one who would want to comfort someone, but he’s acting like a jerk to Dean. It’s not his fault that he got turned and Sam knows that.

“You wanna help me make breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

Pulling back, you stand up having Dean follow you.

“You’re gonna stir up the pancake batter for me.”

Picking him up, you place him on the counter next to a bowl.

“Pour this and this in there and I’ll get you something to stir it with.”

Handing him a whisk, he takes it in both hands slowly stirring, watching the pattern in the batter form from the whisk. You help him stir it faster and have him pour some into the pan.

As your starting the bacon and Dean has been set on the floor, you hear bare feet slapping against the ground. Turning your head, you witness Dean crouched, waddling around the kitchen with a spoon he wanted to play with, hitting the floor every now and then with it.

“What are you doing?” You ask amused.

“’M a penguin.” He responds, looking up at you.

“Okay Mr. Penguin, you can continue. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Dean does exactly that.

Breakfast is ready and Dean helps himself into a chair, when Sam walks in fully dressed.

“We made breakfast!” Dean excitedly tells him as Sam grabs a plate.

“Yeah… I’m gonna eat in the library so I can do some more research.”

Cutting Dean’s pancakes small enough, you began shaking your head. “No, you’re gonna eat in here with us because if you go in there, you and I both know that food will go cold and untouched. So, sit down.”

Sam frowns, about to open his mouth again.

“Sit. Down. Sam.” Your eyes follow him as he lowers himself, taking your hand off your hip. Throwing together your own plate, Dean stands in the chair and makes a grab for the syrup only for Sam to take it. When he finishes, he places it out of Dean’s reach.

Dean sits back down with his hands gripping the edge of the table, staring longing at the bottle.

Swiping the syrup, you begin pouring some over his pancakes and he watches it cascade down. Making sure he eats with the fork; you leave him be.

When Dean is full, he sits patiently in his chair, waiting for you to finish.

“All done?” You ask him, putting the last bit of your pancakes into your mouth.

He nods, staring at Sam; who is trying not to make eye contact with his brother.

“Drink the little bit of milk you have left.” You put the cup in front of Dean and push his plate away from him.

As he begins to drink, Sam tells you that he thinks he’s headed in the right direction on finding a spell for Dean. Dean makes an intrigued noise at hearing his name. Of course, he doesn’t understand what Sam is talking about though.

“’M finish.” Dean tells you, showing the inside of the cup.

Pushing away from the table, you get up and help Dean out of his chair, handing both of your empty cups to him while you carry the plates.

“Sam, can you take Dean and wash up his face and help him brush his teeth and I’ll take care of getting him dressed?”

His chair sounds off on the floor. “Umm, actually, I’m about to head back to the library and do some more research.”

“Sa-“He’s already gone.

When you look down at Dean, he raises the two cups he has.

“Thank you.”

You were going to start on the dishes, when he wraps an arm around your leg and starts leaning on you.

“You know what? Let’s leave this for later. Come on.”

You guide Dean out of the kitchen with a hand on the back of his head. Making it to the bathroom you get out both of your toothbrushes, putting toothpaste on both. Handing Dean his, you begin to brush yours, while he looks up at you and repeats what you’re doing. Done with yours, you spit and rinse.

“Your turn.” Dean holds onto his brush with a tight grip as you lift him. After he spits, you set him back down and take the toothbrush.

“Say, ahh.”

“Ahh.”

When he sticks his tongue out, you brush it because you noticed he didn’t do it himself. Dean’s face begins to scrunch up when you get to the back and since you don’t want to activate his gag reflex, you stop. Completely done with teeth brushing, you move on to washing his face.

Towel in hand, Dean finds it amusing to run from you. When you catch up to him, you gather him between your legs and wrap an arm around him from your spot on the floor. He twists and turns the best he can, but in the end, you win the battle.

Getting started on your own face, Dean watches, playing with the towel he just got his face cleaned with.

“What’s that?” He asks tiny finger pointing to the bottle you just pumped some face wash from.

“It’s special soap for my face.”

Dean’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t ask any other questions.

Finished, you escort Dean towards his room.

“Dean, don’t run, Sweetie.”

As if he didn’t hear he you, he continues down the hall as fast as his little legs can take him.

“Dean, I won’t tell you again, don’t run.” You say with a lot more authority in your voice.

He stops in his tracks and waits for you to catch up to him.

After you get him dressed, you brush and style his hair with a little bit of gel. You told him to wait in his room while you got yourself dressed and he climbed up on the bed saying that he would. Coming out of your room, you fix your shirt a little.

“Dean.” You say in a sing song voice.

When you come into the doorframe of his room, you see he has the bottom drawer of the dresser pulled out.

“Whatcha got there?” You ask coming closer.

What Dean shows you makes your mouth fall open. Busty Asian mags.

“Give that to me and go sit with Sam, where we found him earlier.” Hand out, Dean places the magazine into your palm. It wasn’t open when he was looking at it, so thankfully he didn’t get a peek at anything. You take the rest of the magazines that’s in the drawer and put them in the top one instead, so they’re out of reach.

With that taken care of, you head out to go find Dean, again.

You find him staring at Sam from behind one of the bookshelves.

It kind of makes your heartbreak, Dean just wants some attention from him and Sam just keeps refusing to show him any. You kind of feel like a single mother, but the deadbeat dad is just in view.

“Dean?” You call out softly.

He whips his head around and begins to come towards you. When he gets to you he latches onto your hand. As the two of you start to walk off, Sam slightly raises his head before it goes back down.

For the majority of the day, the two of you played. When you put him down for a nap, you went and did the dirty dishes you put off earlier. Sam stayed in the library, except when you made him come out to eat.

It’s nighttime and Dean starts to get cuddly, the sign that he’s getting sleepy. So, you give him a bath and brush his teeth before walking him to bed. He hugs you before you tuck him in, telling him sweet dreams.

 

It’s a new day and this time a little energetic Dean doesn’t wake you. You’ve actually woken up before him and once he’s awake, the two of you start the motions of the day.

Again, Sam refuses to show Dean any attention, but unlike yesterday Dean isn’t bothered by it.

Since he doesn’t have any toys or other things to keep him occupied, you take him to the store with you, it just made sense because you had to get some more food for the bunker anyway.

He doesn’t put up a fight when you place him in the car seat. On the way to the store, Dean dances in his seat as you sing along to the songs on the radio.

At the store, Dean is holding your hand while you push the buggy with the other. Feeling him tug your hand, you look down at him.

“I wanna get in there.” He says, pointing to the basket.

“You wanna get in the buggy?”

He nods, looking at you with his big green eyes.

“Alright, come on.”

Dean puts his arms up. Picking him up, you place him inside, collapsing the holder inside of it so he can lean back. Once he’s situated, Dean sticks his little fingers through the hole on both sides of the basket.

You push him through the aisles throwing in food here and there.

Debating how much lettuce to get for Sam’s salads, you hear someone gasp to the side of you.

There’s a lady staring at Dean with the biggest smile on her face.

“Oh, he’s so adorable. How old is he?”

“Three.”

“Aw, are you his babysitter?”

“Um, no, I’m his sister. He’s adopted.” You whisper the last part.

“Oh, really, what happened to his parents?”

Dean is looking between the two of you, holding a bag of Doritos.

“House fire.” You say carding your fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Aw, you poor thing. Well, he looks happy now.” When she reaches to pinch his cheek, Dean goes crossed-eyed trying to keep her hand in sight. His head hits the basket and he can’t go further back.

When she touches him, he takes a swat at her hand, knocking it off.

The woman retracts, looking at him like he’s grown a second head. You bite your lip to keep from laughing at the scene in front of you.

“No. I don’ know you.” Dean says, glaring at her.

“Dean, don’t be mean.”

He looks up at you, little stern face set. The look he’s giving you reminds you so much of him when he was older.

The woman huffs and speed walks off.

Putting your arms on the bar of the buggy, you begin to laugh with your head on your arms. You feel Dean’s tiny hands on the top of your head. Raising it, you looking at him directly in his eyes, he switches his hands to your cheeks.

“Why are you laughin’?”

“I’m laughing at you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re funny.” You say while he’s squishing your face. “Sit back down, so we can finish.”

Instead of sitting down, Dean turns around and stands in front of you, leaning on you. Fully straightening up, you carefully take his legs for under him, gently making him sit on his butt.

“I don’t want you to fall.” You tell him when he looks at you.

The Doritos return to their spot in his lap.

Plenty of food in the basket, Dean was walking in front of your legs, so you could keep an eye on him, at this point. The two of you were headed to checkout and Dean stopped, making you almost run him over.

He puts the chips on the bottom of the buggy, squeezes between your leg and the basket and runs down a toy aisle.

“Dean, don’t run.”

He stops running, but he does continue to walk, looking at all the toys.

You watch him from the buggy as he looks up as far as he can before he starts pointing to something on one of the shelves.

“What is it?”

“A monkey.”

Monkey?

Coming closer to him with the basket, you spot the stuffed monkey he was talking about. It’s hands and feet have velcro on them.

“You want it?”

“Mhm.”

Taking the monkey down, you hand it off to Dean. He hugs it to himself and returns to the basket.

May as well get him a few other things while y’all are here.

By the time the two of you return home Dean has a few cars, a coloring book, and some crayons; since you threw the bbq ones away.

You made Sam help you bring in the groceries and as for Dean, you set him up in his room to play with his toys. When nightfall came, Dean was put to bed with his new friend.

 

A few days pass and everything is going as normal as it can with little Dean. Sam is buried in his research of finding a spell.

Until one night you were actually helping Sam do some research, when the both of you heard the loudest cry either of you have ever heard come out of a three-year-old.

Chairs hit the floor as the two of you sprinted towards his room.

Getting to his room, you swing the door open to find him clutching his monkey.

Dean sees you and tries to get out of the bed quicker than his body will let him. You catch him before he falls.

Monkey long forgotten, Dean clutches to you like he’s hanging on for dear life.

When Sam turns on one of the lamps, you pull back to get a look at his face and it’s redder than you’ve ever seen it; including when he was an adult.

You put his head back in your neck, rocking him side to side.

“Dean, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer. You were about to pick him up when you felt something wet on the palm of your hand.

Sam clears his throat, before awkwardly saying, “He wet the sheets”.

He must have had a nightmare.

“Give me some more clothes and I’ll give him a bath.”

“I’ll bring them to you.” Sam says, starting to strip the bed.

“Let’s go, Sweetie.”

Taking a still crying Dean out of the room, you head towards the bathroom with him. You start the bath still holding him because he won’t let go.

“I need to set you down, so I can get you all cleaned up, Sweetie. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. Just let me get you all cleaned up and I’ll pick you up again, Okay?”

He doesn’t verbally respond, but he does pull back, hands lightly resting on your forearms. Dean continues to softly cry when you place him in the bath.

“It’s okay, we won’t let anything hurt you.”

Throughout his bath, he holds onto your arm.

“Here.” Sam says, sticking his arm through the door opening.

You attempt to get up and Dean gets up too, trying to get out of the tub.

“I got it Dean, stay there.”

That just makes his lip poke out and his eyes start to water again.

“Sam, just bring it in here.”

Sam comes in with his head turned, handing you the clothes and a towel. He picks up the dirty ones and takes them out.

“Out you go.”

Drying him off, you put him in his clothes. Dean reaches for you when you finish dressing him.

He’s stopped crying which is a good thing.

You walk into his room, sitting on the newly changed sheets, leaning against the headboard with him in your arms.

“You wanna tell me what’s the matter?” You say softly, stroking his hair back.

He shakes his head, playing with the buttons on your shirt.

Adult Dean does tend to have nightmares. He’s never told you that, but why else would he be up in the middle of the night after he went to sleep? You’d always find him sitting at the meeting table staring down at it with a bottle of jack beside him. You haven’t always been able to be there when he did, but the times you were able to, you took the bottle away from him and just sat there and talked. You talked to him about things that had nothing to do with hunting; it was just something random you were able to think of or you would talk about a dream you had before you woke up and found him. He would always listen with a tiny smile on his face and the two of you would return to your designated beds after a few hours. Dean would be in a better mood when it was officially time to wake up after you’ve talked to him.

“You have a bad dream?”

Dean nods.

“Aw, well, you know me and Sammy wouldn’t let anything happen to you, right? You’re safe.”

He stops playing with your buttons and puts his arm around your neck again. You stay there holding him until you feel steady puffs of air on your neck.

You move slowly, so you won’t wake him up. Placing him under the cover, you put his monkey beside him before tipping out of the room.

Talking to Sam for a bit, you assure him Dean is okay now and that’s he’s sleep. He asks if he told you what was wrong, obviously, all you could say is that he had a nightmare.

Tired, you go to your room and lay down, wanting to get some sleep for yourself.

An hour later, your bedroom door opens and you wake up to see Dean padding in with his little friend clutched in his hands. Not knowing you’re awake, he stops at the side of your bed and curls up on the floor.

You quietly sigh, moving closer to the edge of the bed. Reaching down, you grab him and drag him up with you. He squeaked, but settled down once he was tucked against you.

 

Morning comes and Sam actually comes and see why the two of you are still in bed. You get Dean all dressed and his teeth brushed and everything. Then you set him in his room to play with toys, so you could take care of yourself.

When you were coming out of the bathroom, dirty clothes in hand, at the corner of your eye, you see blonde hair and hear little car noises.

Dean looks up at you and then gathers his cars and monkey.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Dean replies.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was waitin’ for you.” He says nonchalantly. “’M hungry.”

You smile at him. “Well, let me put these down and I’ll make you something.”

“Okay.”

Walking, his little feet trail behind you, before you guys head to the kitchen, Dean runs into his room and puts his cars down.

“You wanna get your coloring book?”

He runs back into the room, holding the book to his chest when he comes out and ends up dropping his pack of crayons. You pick them up for him and lead him to the kitchen.

While you’re cooking, Dean sits at the table coloring. You notice that he keeps looking back at you like he’s making sure your still there every now and then. Just to test it, you sneak around the corner, peeking at Dean from there.

He turns his head back around to do his check and when he finds you’re not there, Dean puts the crayon down and looks all around the kitchen.

Dean slides off the chair, leaving his monkey in his and goes to search for you.

He comes around the corner and spots you.

“Where’d you go?” He asks, fiddling with his hands.

“Um, I thought I left the water on in the bathroom, but I didn’t.”

“Are you finish cookin’?”

“It should be done. Get back in your chair and I’ll get some to you.”

Dean does so and instead of picking his crayon back up, he keeps his eyes on you until you sit down with your own plate.

It doesn’t end there, throughout the day he stays with you, watching your every move. You go to the bathroom, he stays outside the door, waiting patiently. Dean needed to take a nap, his eyes would start to close, but then he’d give his head a little shake. You watched him battle with himself, until he reached for you from where you were laying. He fell asleep on your chest and his hands had a loose grip on your shirt.

You know it has something to do with what he dreamed about, but with him being a child you don’t want to interrogate him. Hopefully this doesn’t last long.

He wakes up, you play and color with him some more and the two of you settle down for a movie. Dean ended up dancing along to the songs that were being sung.

The day ended on an okay note, but Dean still fell asleep in your bed.

 

Few days pass since the nightmare situation, Dean started doing his own thing again.

He’s doing his own thing so much so, that you lose track of him.

You walked into the library to see Sam slapping down papers with an annoyed look on his face.

“Hey, have you seen Dean?”

“You mean the brat?”

You frown at his rudeness.

“Well, have you or have you not?”

Sam points to a bookshelf and in-between the shelf and the wall stands Dean. He has his head down and his shoulders are slumped down.

“Why is he in the corner?” You ask, resting hands on the table, glaring Sam down.

“He drew on my notes and I just finished transferring them.”

“Did you tell him not to touch or draw on anything over here?”

“No, he should know that.”

You slam your hand down on the table making him jump. Dean even jumped and looked over before turning his head back around.

“How the hell is he supposed to know if you don’t tell him, Sam? You’ve done nothing but ignore that damn boy. Boohoo, your bother got turned into a fuckin’ three-year-old. That doesn’t give the right to be a dick. If that was you, Dean would make sure not only to find a damn spell, he would take care of every damn thing you needed. Now you can suck it up and just fuckin’ finish if you what him back so bad.”

Sam stares at you speechless.

“Dean, come on. It’s time for lunch.”

Dean turns around uncertainty covering his features.

“Come on.” You say, holding out your hand.

He glances at Sam as he makes his way to you.

You don’t feel sorry about blowing up at Sam. Yes, you understand he wants his brother back, but ignoring the little brother he has now is ridiculous.

Hours later, Dean ran to get his cars, so he could play with you with them. Sam walked in looking a little sheepish. He stayed in the library after you chewed him out. This is the first time you seen him since.

“What is it, Sam?”

“I think I may have found a spell.”

You stop picking up crayons.

“Do you have everything you need?”

Sam’s hand makes it to the back of his neck. “We need some blood from him.”

Dean comes running back in, plopping down on the floor.

“I don’t want us to have to cut him. Is there any other way to get it?”

“Get what?” Dean asks, looking at you two.

“Don’t worry about it, Sweetie. Take the coloring book and your crayons back to your room for me.”

You both watch Dean leave the room.

“I don’t know any other way to get blood, (Y/N). Except for a needle but we don’t have any.”

Sighing, you begin to shake your head. “Where would you cut him?”

“I’m cutting him?” Sam asks.

“Yes. I can’t do it. I just… I just can’t.”

“Maybe his thigh, I guess.”

“How deep do you need to cut?”

“Enough to get some blood in the bowl.”

Dean comes back and spots the look on your face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, hand on your shoulder.

“Nothing, Buddy. Sammy, has to get something from you…” You stop not really knowing how to explain it to him. Looking at Sam for help, he looks just as lost as you are. “He needs some of your blood to make sure you’re healthy. He’s gonna send it to a doctor. And the doctor is gonna call us and, um, give us some news.”

Dean’s brow is furrowed when you finish.

“You know me and Sam will keep you safe, right?”

“Mhm.”

“We love you and we wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or let anything happen to you. But we need it to make sure you’re strong and healthy.”

Dean sits on your thigh, hooking his arm around your neck. “I love you too.”

You hug him before picking him up and having Sam follow the two of you back to the library.

Instead of cutting his thigh, Sam chooses to cut his upper arm instead. Dean looks at Sam coming towards him with a sharp knife.

When he sets the knife on his skin, you say, “Waitwaitwait, do we have something to numb it first”?

Sam pulls back giving you and unimpressed look.

“Okay, do it.”

You can’t watch as he starts. Dean starts to cry, but it’s not loud. All you can do is hold him.

“That’s it.” Sam says, already bandaging up his arm.

Dean continues to cry, holding onto you. You watch as Sam continues the rest of the spell. By the end of the spell Dean has stopped crying and he’s just sniffling now.

Sam looks at Dean as if he’s waiting for him to transform in front of his eyes. You get up and take Dean into the kitchen to get him a snack.

Now all there is to do is wait and hope it works.

Dean wasn’t acting any differently. He was running around, playing with things, and dancing to music.

You were coming back from the bathroom when you saw Dean’s stuffed friend on the floor. Picking it up, you move its little fur around and continue to walk.

Setting the monkey down, you lay down beside it.

Hearing sock covered feet hit the ground, you turn your head from the TV. Dean walks to you with a frown.

“What’s up, Buddy?”

“My head hurts.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. You wanna lay down for a bit?”

He does so, quietly.

After ten minutes or so you look over at him and his eyes are closed. You would think he was just sleeping, but when he sleeps his mouth is open a little and right now it isn’t.

“Dean?” You shake him and he doesn’t open his eyes.

“Dean! Sam!”

Sam comes running in the room.

“Dean, won’t wake up. I don’t know what happened, he told me his head was hurting and I told him to lay down.” You’re on the verge of tears.

“Calm down, I’m sure it’s just the spell. Let’s get him to bed and give him some room.”

Sam carries Dean into his room and has to kick you out when you didn’t want to leave.

You open the door every now and then to check on him because you promised Sam you wouldn’t go in. An hour passes and nothing else has happen, Dean is still in the room knock out. Twenty minutes after that, though, you hear something rip. And it sounds like fabric ripping, similar to when someone would rip a body towel.

Opening the door once again, a very naked adult Dean is in the bed. You quickly shut it to go tell Sam his brother is back.

Neither of you go back into the room, so Dean would have some privacy.

You and Sam were looking up some hunts to go on when you two heard bare feet on the floor.

Dean comes into view in pj’s holding onto a ripped kid sized Captain America shirt.

“Can someone explain this?”

You and Sam look at each other before you gather the things you had and make your way out of the room, leaving the brothers to watch you leave confused.

You were in your room laying on the bed, blankly staring at the TV. A knock sounds off at the door.

“Come in.”

Dean comes in, tall figure and all. “Hey.” He says in his deep unchildlike voice.

“Hey.” You turn off the TV.

He sits on the bed. “Sam told me what happened and, uh, I hope I wasn’t too much to handle.”

“No, you were fine. You were so adorable.”

Dean huffs. “Yeah… Thank you for takin’ care of me by the way. But, uh, why’d you run out earlier?”

You sit fully up against your headboard. “No reason.”

Dean repositions, sitting beside you on the bed, crossing his arms. “You know you can tell me. This is a judgement free zone, you know that.”

You give him a side glance before starting to play with your jeans.

“I guess, while you were a kid, I was getting used to it… Sam made a comment about how I would be a good mother and I told him about when I was a kid and having that white picket fence dream of having a family. Obviously, I won’t get the chance to experience that with the life we have. I was fine with that, I accepted that it just wouldn’t be the life I would have. But, uh…”

You stop talking, staring at your sheets. Dean wraps an arm around your shoulders, bringing you in.

“You were so small and I kept you happy and you needed me. I had to cook for you and help you with so much stuff. To know that I was good at it… is the fucked up part about it. I won’t ever get the chance to have my own kid to take care of and experience that again. You had a nightmare and you were crying and all I could do is hold you as long as you needed me to. You came in my room and was about sleep on the floor, but I picked you up and put you in the bed with me and you fell straight to sleep. The next day, you wouldn’t let me be alone. I just figured it had something to do with your nightmare, so I didn’t mind. Whatever made you happy. Mainly all you wanted to do was cuddle, play with toys, or watch a movie or two. You were you but it was an unfiltered you.”

There’s a knock at the door again and Sam pokes his head in. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, could you go get me some tissue?” Dean asks his brother.

Sam disappears and comes back a minute later with a roll of tissue, tossing it in, Dean catches it with one hand.

He sets it in his lap, tearing some off and hands what he torn off to you to wipe your cheeks.

“It’s just so fucked up to know you’re good at something, but you will never be able to put it use for the rest of your life. However long that may be for us.”

“You know I don’t like you talkin’ about death, (Y/N).”

“I know, but I’m just saying.”

It is odd that he doesn’t like it when you talk about it, considering the line of work you guys are in.

Dean bends his head to catch your eyes. “That wasn’t it, was it?”

You shake your head, balling up the tissue.

“Then I’m still listenin’.”

“I don’t wanna tell you.” You whisper.

“Why not?” He questions in the same tone.

“’Cause you’ll probably get mad at me.”

Dean sighs, removing his arm from around your shoulders to grab your free hand instead. “If I promise not to get mad, will you tell me?”

You slightly chew on your lip. “Yes.”

“Then I promise that I won’t get mad.”

Wiping your nose with the tissue, you look down at your tangled fingers. “Apart of me didn’t want you to get turned back.”

The admission makes Dean pause.

“I know, I feel so horrible about it. I just… I don’t fuckin’ know. I probably thought that if you didn’t get turned back you’d stay three forever and I could take care of you… A-and you’d act as the son I’ll never have.”

You begin to break down, hand going up to your face to cover it.

 

Dean wraps his arm around her again, rubbing up and down her arm. He turns his head and blinks a few times, clearing his throat.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

“Please, don’t hate me.”

He grabs her wrist and removes the hand on her face. “I don’t hate you. I’d never hate you.” Dean wipes tears off of her cheeks.

“It was so selfish of me and that’s probably why I didn’t help Sam find a spell. He was so focused on finding one and I was upset with him for it. I’m a fuckin’ idiot, Dean. You probably would’ve been back sooner if I wasn’t being so selfish. How could I do that to you?”

Dean really doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He lays them down and sets her head on his chest. All he can do is hold her while she cries.

He’s not going to lie to her and say she will probably get what she wants one day because they both know that’s a bold face lie. There’s no way she would be able to have a family without having to basically never leave any of their sides.

With the way both of their parents died, that’s even more of a reason not have a family in this line of work. It’s too risky because if you’re on a case you’re not actually focused on the case, you’re wondering if your family is okay while you’re out.

Dean feels sorry for her. She’s a sweet girl that wants the best for others. Being a hunter, you don’t run into other hunters that wish that for everyone. And to be able to be around someone who’s like that all the time is like having a refreshing reminder every second of the day that you’re doing something good for people like (Y/N).

Her crying is on and off as they lie in her bed, but he continues to hold her. When she has seemed to get most of the crying out of her system is when he speaks.

“What do you wanna do with the clothes and stuff?”

“I want us to donate them.” She replies from his chest, sniffing.

“Alright. I’ll get it all together a little later.” Dean says softly.

“Thank you.”

Instead of replying he just tightens his hold. It’s all he can do…

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I thought it would be a snazzy little idea to write about Dean getting turned into a three year old. I had a lot of fun writing it.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcomed!!!<3


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